Angel
by Eliza Garcia
Summary: Erik writes a letter to Christine three weeks after she leaves him. Book based but just requires general knowledge of PotO. Spoilers.


**Title: **Angel  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any The Phantom of the Opera related characters. However, I do own this story and it can not be reproduced in any way, shape or form without my permission.  
**Summary: **Erik writes a letter to Christine three weeks after she leaves. **Contains Spoilers. **Book version.  
**Rating: **PG-13 for themes.  
**Author's Note: **These are the types of fanfics I enjoy writing and this is my first 'official' Phantom phic. I have a full length story that is finished and I may be posting on here so stay tune for that. Please read and review, flames are welcomed!

**Angel**

I am alone. You are gone and I have nothing left in the darkness in which I once found solace. I sit alone at a desk and write this final farewell letter to you, my darling Christine. It has been almost three weeks since you left me. Since I let you go. The days seem to go by like weeks and the weeks like months. I have lost the little sense of self that I acquired over the years. Everything I knew in life disappeared with you. I long to sing to you, but I know you shall never hear my song again. I am punished my silence.

I have not gone above ground since you left. You are the last light of day I shall ever see in this lifetime. Have you thought of me, Christine? Have you forgotten your Angel of Music already? I hope that you will not forget your promise. My only comfort in this approaching death is that you will return to me after it. You will bury me with your gold ring. Will it pain you to see me dead? Please do not shed tears over me, Christine. I do not deserve them.

You have another life now. That boy will provide a stable life for you; a life that you can live out as normal as possible. You will be married and have children. The children will grow up and move away from you and you and Raoul will be able to grow old together. He will love you. If it were not for my wretched face I could have given you that life. I could have loved you as a man loves a woman. I could have grown old with you and remained at your side in the last days of our life. I could have. But life has not turned out that way for us, Christine.

I had always thought that I had power over you. I was able to teach you how to make your voice sound heavenly. I was able to take you away from this earthy world into another by merely singing to you. My constant singing almost drove you insane, I know. I was always in your mind, in your dreams and in your soul. I thought I controlled your every whim. I convinced you to deny Raoul's advancements at first, telling you that the Angel of Music needs full dedication. But I was not in control. It was you who controlled me. Since I first heard you sing there has not been a day that I have not thought of you. I wanted to make your voice soar. I wanted to make you the star of Paris. Everything I did was for your advancement. I brought you down to my home, far below the opera house, because you asked it of me. I would have told you black was white and night was day if you wanted me to. You did not know it then, but your Angel of Music needed you to live. You gave me a reason to not rid this cruel world of myself forever. You pulled me from my solitude for a few all too brief months. Every waking moment was filled with the thought of you and every sleeping hour was filled with your face in my dreams. I was falling in love with you, Christine. You saw my face and did not run away in fright. You saw my face and stayed at my side. And now, every moment is filled with the memory of your lips on my forehead and your hand on mine. You touched me when no one else in the world would dare. You did not touch just my skin, Christine. You touched my heart.

I do not regret letting you leave, Christine. You will be happy and you shall never know the cruelty of loneliness. But I long for you. I need you. I want you to know that my life was worth living when you were near. Years of indifference and cruelty will never be washed away from my memory, but those years are easier to look at knowing that I was rewarded by meeting you. And now that you are gone, I know not what to do. I can not return to the life of isolation and madness. My music can not even take me away from the harshness of solitude. I am rotting in this hell on earth when I know I belong in the hell I came from. I have murdered innocent lives and I have tainted your soul with my memory. I can not handle it anymore, Christine.

Letting you go was the easiest and hardest thing I have ever done. It was easy because I knew your happiness was ensured. It was difficult because I would never see you again. I damned myself to the solitude I'm so accustomed to. I am not as strong as I believed I was, Christine. Do not cry for me. Just remember my wishes and bury me with your ring.

My end has come. Life has been cruel to me and I am making the decision to end it. I love you, Christine. I love you as I have never loved before and will never love again. Remember me as your guide and guardian. Remember your Angel of Music for what I once was. Goodbye, Christine. Your angel is returning to hell.


End file.
